Wrecked
by Insomniac By Choice
Summary: Mankind reached in to the heavens, but it fell short somewhere along the way. The story behind the infamous ship, its crew, and the devil that hitched a ride.
1. Chapter 1

_Faster than light (FTL) travel has been called the greatest innovation in the history of mankind, ahead of even fire and the quantum processor in its significance. While FTL travel must thank those and many other technological advances for its own existence, it is difficult to say anything changed the course of human history like the ability to practically explore and travel between the stars in a single objective human lifetime. _

_All great accomplishments require sacrifices in order to realize them, thus more than anything else, FTL travel must thank the courageous men and women who gave their lives in its name and development. The current prosperity of humankind and the Federation itself rests on their proud shoulders. _

_-Donald Hanes, "Technology and the Galactic Federation: The Legacy of Giants", 1687 NE_

* * *

**Plesetsk Cosmodrome, Russian Republic  
Planet Earth  
May 19, 2061 CE**

It was a pretty day in the Archangel Region of the Russian Republic but not a historic day by any means.

The ship on the launch strip was a part of the eighth mission in a planned series of twelve designed to test the effects of a particular relativity-minimizing drive on human beings. The technology itself had existed for well over a decade in the form of unmanned probes and as a result, was no longer especially interesting to the general public. Sending human crews into space had also recently become considered commonplace, so there was little fanfare and media coverage surrounding the launch of this one, especially when the launch site was so far away from most ground-based news sources. The event was a back-pager and bottom-linker, ignored by the average reader who was more interested in learning the latest rumors of the circumstances surrounding the death of retired American actress Ashley Olsen, found dead in a Baghdad hotel May 17. But the multi-national group of astronauts who had volunteered for the mission had expected — and accepted — that they would be overlooked and felt little bitterness about it.

The ship that would bring the remainder of the mission's crew into space was only one component of the larger vessel that had already been hauled into space and fully assembled, excepting the section they brought to complete it. Twelve sat in the shuttle's seats and twenty-seven more waited for them in orbit, a total crew of thirty-nine. Most were Chinese, Russian, and American, with Japanese and Europeans filling out the rest. As this was considered the responsibility of the Russian branch of the World Space Organization, the official language was also Russian, though most of the astronauts could already speak several other languages — including Russian — passably. The captain of the ship was also operational commander of the mission and obligatorily, a Russian man, but no one else in the crew had met him or knew much about him. Being led by an enigma would be cause for nervousness under normal circumstances, but relatively-minimizing drives were still quite an enigma themselves; the captain was a human being and obviously qualified if he had been chosen for this assignment. That was reassurance enough.

In two of the ship's back seats, a Chinese and American chatted quietly, bemoaning the current state of Major League Baseball, especially now that the Nanjing Imperials were no longer the dynasty they'd once been. Both had had a good laugh as they realized the unintended pun of that. Next to them, the three Japanese astronauts were engaged in a superficially-related debate over the role of their dynasty's first Empress in the economic bust of the early twenties, while further to the front, the Russians and Americans were attempting to explain the long term technological and sociopolitical benefits of the Cold War to the remaining Europeans who steadfastly held the position that it had all been nothing but a Super Powered pissing contest, with the rest of the world being the recipients of said piss. Up in the very front, the captain sat silently, occasionally smiling when those nearby appealed for his opinion on the issue, but saying nothing. Eventually the rest of the crew realized he wasn't any good for conversation and left him to think in peace.

All of the volunteers on this mission — and in fact the entire series of missions — had been screened for a number of different factors, mostly relating to their measured and projected performance in certain situations, but also relating to their personal lives.

This wasn't at all a suicide mission, but circumstances required that it be treated as such. There were thousands of crucial components to every spaceship, any of them working improperly or calibrated inaccurately could cause the death of everyone onboard. And they wouldn't be traveling in just any in any spaceship; they were to be in one that attempted to twist fundamental physical laws, bend them as far as they would go before they finally broke. This mission would be the farthest yet of the series, though unmanned probes had been sent farther and were expected back any time now. But what if something went wrong or what if there was some subtle effect on humans that hadn't been accounted for? That was the purpose of the mission: to find out. All of the volunteers had understood that. All of the volunteers were childless and single, without any close siblings, and with parents who had already passed away. They had had to say goodbye to close friends, pets, and acquaintances, but that was all. Most of the volunteers expected to return home very soon, at least as time passed for them.

Relativity-minimizing drives did just that, _minimize_ the objective time a journey took compared to the subjective time the passengers felt. But the Plutonian voyage—the second unmanned mission in the series—had still taken six objective months, round trip, even if the probe's internal clock had measured it to be only minutes. The project heads and scientists had refined the technology a good deal since then but this mission would be going thousands upon thousands of times as far as Pluto and exploring an alien world before turning back. How long would it seem to those on board? How long would it be to those on Earth?

The captain thought about those things as he sat in his seat awaiting the launch. He thought about them because unlike the rest of his crew, he had been _ordered_ to serve in this mission and thus was not held to its screening parameters. He had a wife. He had a daughter who would be seven in July. By the time he got back, who knew how old she'd be? Would he just miss a few birthdays, as the scientists' best-case projections indicated? Would he come back to find her dating? Married? What of his wife? How would she cope with his absence? She would raise their daughter by herself with the help of his government paycheck but that wouldn't be enough to cover all expenses. How long would she wait on him before she moved on?

The captain sat in his chair and mulled over these things while the ship sat on the launch strip, thinking that perhaps if he did something impulsive and inappropriate right now he could get kicked off of the mission and go back to his family, to live with them, whatever that disgraceful life would be. But he knew he wouldn't. Captain Vladimir Telander knew why he had been designated to this position, knew he was a competent commander, and knew that he owed the Republic this small sacrifice, as large a sacrifice as it felt to him. He would not disgrace himself or his country; it wasn't even a viable option. But he still thought about it.

Finally, the countdown commenced, the ship tore down the runway and up into the air, accelerated until it left the atmosphere, and later met the vessel in orbit waiting for it, fully assembled, excepting the section contained in the Earth-launched ship itself.

A few hours later, the space faring vessel was fully assembled without exception and set off toward its destination at a speed beyond speed.

More importantly, however, video evidence of Ashley Olsen's corpse became available to public, quickly shattering the previous record for most downloaded media file of all time.


	2. Chapter 2

**RRS Odessa  
Relative Space  
Subjective Time Passed: One week  
Objective Time Passed: Unknown**

As she traveled down the mobile walkway, Liu Yuling smiled at two of the American data technicians passing the opposite way, and they smiled broadly back. She smiled at everyone. It was her nature to be cheerful, warm, and sunny, and in a place where there was no sun, these attributes became much more important. Congeniality in a closed system was a necessity, after all. As professional as everyone onboard was and had to be about their jobs, they also needed to feel comfortable and relaxed when they had nothing to do. As of yet, nothing had needed to be done outside of regular checks of the ship and equipment, so Liu did her best to make sure everyone was happy and carefree while there was the luxury for such things. That was her job, after all.

"Officer Yuling."

She'd heard the voice behind her and turned around to see a Russian walking up toward her. When he got within arm's reach, he stopped and leaned toward her slightly, grinning expectantly. Liu recognized him as one of the late-arriving ventilation technicians from the shuttle, and she knew she had been introduced to him at some point but couldn't clearly remember his name. She risked a guess.

"How are you doing this morning, Anatoly?" Liu said with a confident smile that hid all traces of her doubt. His own grin didn't falter, so she knew she had guessed right.

"Is it morning? I can't tell at all. I'm about to go to sleep, actually. I've been up nearly twenty hours, I think."

"Now you know that you can't make a habit of that," she chided, perhaps a little too motheringly, "If there's a crisis, we'll need everyone operating at their best and on their recommended time schedule otherwise who knows what could happen?"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered and rolled his eyes, perhaps too childishly. He opened his mouth as if to say something but hesitated a moment. From experience, she knew what was coming next, and cringed inwardly as he finally said it, "But, uh, anyway the reason I wanted to see you is that I'm about to go to bed and I wondered if you were busy at the moment. To join me."

Liu Yuling smiled, but with a subtle change of the shape of her mouth turned her usual congenial expression into one of gentle, but firm, denial.

"Anatoly, I'd love to but right now I'm on my way to see the captain. Maybe some other time?"

Anatoly looked very disappointed but just nodded. He stepped onto the mobile walkway going in the opposite direction and was carried quickly away. Liu hated to have to do that to him but she really did have to see the captain and besides, she couldn't just agree to an informal request like that; there were regulations.

She had turned thirty-one in April, but she looked younger, kept herself in good shape naturally and had only required a few artificial enhancements to get this position. She was an attractive female, of course, so it was only natural that these situations would occur, but there was a system in place for conduct with morale officers. Once people began to bend the system, there was no reason to have a system at all. Really. If he would just go through the proper channels he wouldn't even have to ask.

A few minutes and smiles later, she reached the captain's room and waited to be let in. Liu hadn't seen the inside since the captain had actually moved in and she wondered what he'd done with the place. It might give her some kind of clue to the type of man he was. He still hadn't attempted any kind of social behavior with the rest of the crew yet, probably not a good idea considering how long they'd have to be together. But it was his decision.

Finally the doors opened, and she stepped inside. She took a brief moment to look over the room and found it looking much like it had before his arrival. His closet had some uniforms hanging, there was a bag of something sitting next to the bed, and a picture on the nearby stand, though Liu couldn't see what it was of. No other changes seemed to have been made, except for some clutter on the desk. Related to his job, most likely. Well that didn't give her much help in to who he was. Captain Telander himself sat at the desk looking back and forth between some of the papers and a computer monitor.

He looked to be close to forty, although she wasn't really sure how old he was, and fit, if a bit underfed. Handsome, but _severe_ — that was the word she was looking for.

"Morale Officer Yuling," he said without looking up, "I was told you wanted to talk to me about something."

"Actually sir, I was under the impression _you_ wanted to talk to me… That _is_ why you called me down here, isn't it, sir?" she said, allowing an occupational tone to come through that she immediately realized to be improper.

This time he did look up, wearing a particularly scathing expression as he did.

"No. I called you here because I heard that you had some complaints about the way I was conducting things on the ship. Since I had to hear this from other people and not from you, I wanted to give you the opportunity to vocalize _to my face_ what exactly you think I'm doing wrong."

"Sir, I don't know who you talked to, but I fully support you and your authority," Liu said. "My only real question of your procedure is that you're working the crew so hard. A lot of people are griping about the hours they have to put in and we're just a week in on what promises to be a very long mission."

"A lot of people are griping, this is true. _But_," he held that word for moment as he pulled a sheet of paper off a stack, "as far as I know, you're the only one who suggested that I could stand to use a few sessions with one of the male morale officers in the hopes that he could 'loosen up my ass and pull out whatever is stuck up there'. I didn't misquote you by chance, did I?"

Caught, Liu kept her voice completely neutral.

"No sir, that's basically what I said, sir."

"What you or the rest of the crew think of me as a person doesn't matter. You don't have to agree with me or even like me. I do not care." He looked at her like he expected her to argue that he did. "But watch what you say to others, especially considering the influence you have over so much of my crew. You're a Moral Officer. You're supposed to keep them happy no matter what the circumstances and nothing has even happened yet. Gripe now about nothing, and what's going to happen when we actually face a crisis? Keep your criticisms to yourself and keep people happy. In short, do your job. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," she answered, remaining as dispassionate as possible. "Am I dismissed, sir?"

"Not yet," the captain said, obviously still perturbed, "You're scheduled to have a Morale Session with Lieutenant DeSalle in," he checked his watch, "twenty minutes, correct?"

"That's right sir."

"While you have his ear, be sure to remind him to get his team to clean up their work. They've been sloppy the past few days but I haven't had a chance to speak to him about it. Tell him that they need to check everything twice as well as they normally do. No, make that twice as well as they normally _should_."

"But sir," her mouth protested, even as her brain realized she should just stay quiet, "the ship's in working order. No one has even reported a problem yet."

"That's exactly what worries me. We're overdue for some kind of malfunction. I was hoping for something to come up before we launched, but now we're traveling in relative space, and we can't afford to make any mistakes."

"Sir, that seems somewhat… superstitious, doesn't it?"

"Only if you mistake super vigilance for superstition. I want this mission to go smoothly, but I'm preparing for just the opposite. Do you have any objection to _that_, Morale Officer Yuling?"

"None sir."

"Wonderful. _Now_ you're dismissed."


	3. Chapter 3

**Personal Quarters of Lieutenant Leon DeSalle**  
**Thirty Minutes Later **

Leon DeSalle lay on his bed with his hands under his head and sighed, sated. He was content to stay where he was and relax for the rest of the day but knew that he couldn't. He needed to be with his team in ten minutes to analyze the results of some of the computer's reports, but he hadn't even put his pants back on yet. That would be an admission of responsibility, and he wasn't ready to acknowledge the rest of his schedule just yet. He lacked only a cigarette in making this moment perfect, but the air recyclers couldn't handle smoke. Ah well. He'd quit before this mission, anyway.

Leon sighed again, this one of suffering and martyrdom, and got out of bed. He now admitted he had a productive day ahead of him, but he was in no rush to relinquish the freedom walking around the room naked provided. If this was paradise, he was Adam and if he tried to cover himself up with leaves, he might be forbidden from going back in to the garden. The morale officer, his Eve, was still in the bathroom brushing her teeth but hadn't gotten fully dressed yet, either. She'd put her pants back on but her shirt was still off, bountiful breasts bouncing merrily to the rhythm of her arm. Mmm… Watching her, he found himself rising to the occasion once more. His serpent tempting him.

She turned away from the mirror and looked at him at about this same time, then began to laugh.

"Oh no, neither one of us has time for anymore of that," she said after she spat out the foamy toothpaste into the drain and started on fixing her hair.

"What?" Leon appealed innocently as he walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I can't be faulted for what Little Leon is thinking, can I?"

"And I'm not faulting him; I'm faulting _you_," she said wryly as one his hands found her nipple and began to play with it. She gave him an elbow to the ribs and he backed away, waving an imaginary white flag. She went back to fixing her hair. "You should have more important things on your mind."

"There's nothing in the universe more important to a man than this when he sees such a beautiful woman in front of him," he said in a tone of absolute seriousness, though a twinkle in his eye betrayed him.

"Save your romantic lines for women who require it. My salary pays me to feel romantic already."

He smiled.

"And yet I prefer even this shadow of you to most any woman I've known. _Fine_. I'll compliment your exemplary job performance then," he said as he went back into his room and started putting his clothes on. "I mean, I still can't get over that thing you did with your tongue. Is that part of curriculum for morale officers or just something you picked up as you went on?"

"I don't really think you want to know, Lieutenant," she advised, pulling her shirt over her head and fluffing her hair out from under the collar.

"Oh none of that 'lieutenant' nonsense. Here, I am 'Leon'. And I may have to put in a request for a morale officer to get you in my room, but here you are 'Liu', and that is enough. But you're right. I don't really want to know."

They said nothing for a while as they were in the process of putting their shoes and accessories back on and checking to make sure nothing had fallen out of their pockets on to the bed or floor. Finally, both decided that they had their things in order and headed for the door. The morale officer stopped Leon before he could go out the door, and he turned back around, hoping perhaps that she'd changed her mind.

"The captain wanted me to tell you something," she began, crushing his hopes. "I spoke with him before I came here, and he wanted to remind you and your team to be especially careful from now on. I'm not sure if he's been informed of a specific problem or what, but you should probably pay special mind to the quality of your work until he gets over it."

Leon cursed.

"Oh, it's always something with that tight-ass. One day we forgot to check a specific set of data and he gets all bent out of shape out of it, never mind that it was all as it should be. Okay, you told me. Now I'll pretend I care."

"I don't think it matters to the captain so long as it gets done."

"Whatever, my love. When's the next time I can schedule you, by the way?"

"It depends on the rotation. If you get lucky, it could be as soon as next week, but you could get anyone. If you do a special request you'll be sure to get me, but it will take longer."

"I can wait for you, darling."

"Uh huh."

She smiled and leaned to kiss him but he adjusted slightly and kissed her on the cheek before her lips reached him. They stepped outside on to one of the mobile walkways, apparently heading in the same direction. They were alone for the time being and an awkward silence pervaded.

"What was that about?" she asked him after a moment.

"I know you brushed your teeth and everything, but you know." He groaned. "Considering what's been in your mouth, I'd prefer to keep my own mouth away from it. That's all."

A woman came toward them from the other walkway, and they both smiled at her until she passed, then continued with their discussion.

"Oh?" she said in mock surprise. "I thought you and 'Little Leon' were close."

"We are," he responded, "just not that close."

"You do realize that I see more than one person on the same day."

"Of course," he said, waving her off, "I'm under no delusions about that. I understand your job and have no desire for physical exclusivity."

"And you realize that I have people scheduled one after another a lot of the time? And that I have to 'brush my teeth' after a lot of them, too?"

His eyes became very wide and suddenly he had a very bad taste in his mouth. He felt the urge to spit. And vomit.

"Yes… Well, I didn't actually think about _specifically_ that until you said it just now. I'd have preferred not to. Okay. Well, on that note, I've got to get off here. I guess I'll see you around until I can get you scheduled again."

"See you."


	4. Chapter 4

**Data Room  
Two Minutes Later**

Jimmy Bale couldn't figure it out. There was no reason for this to be happening.

He looked up at some of the others in the room who were supposed to be checking the reports of the ship's onboard computers. Supposed to be, but actually socializing with one another. In fact, he was the only one _not_ talking to someone else. No, he couldn't ask one of them about this without looking like an idiot, and a pathetic one at that. But he couldn't figure it out.

Two of the reports had calculated the time traveled in objective, that is, earth's perception, by two different, but equally valid, methods. And despite a secondary check of the program and his own calculations, Jimmy couldn't see where a mistake had been made in either. But they had to of. There was no other way he should get two different results using the exact same data. It was just something slight, a little more than an hour difference, but the computers didn't round off anything to two hundred places. They should be getting the _exact_ same answer. There was something in it that he was missing and as soon as he spotted it, he knew he'd feel like a complete and total idiot.

But he couldn't find it.

He continued to look over the information for the hidden error until he saw Lieutenant DeSalle come in. Then Jimmy realized he'd have to tell his superior about what he'd found and he became even more worried. Nothing had gone wrong on the mission yet and if he was the first one to discover such bad news, they might not appreciate him for bearing it.

"Morning, gentlemen and women," the Lieutenant said, a bit more low-key than usual. Apparently other people noticed it as well.

"What's the matter, sir?" a woman asked him, "I thought you had a morale session scheduled this morning. Did it get pushed back or something?"

"No, I just had it, and yes, it was fine. Better than fine actually. Those officers _really_ know what they're doing."

Several of the men around Jimmy nodded emphatically, but he was on the late end of the rotation and thus couldn't form an opinion just yet. The ones he'd been with on Earth certainly fit that description, though.

"It wasn't the session itself," the Lieutenant went on, "it was… Well, for example, are any of you put off by exactly how much you have to share the officers with other people?"

"Lieutenant," a man to Jimmy's right laughed, "I have the feeling you're asking the wrong people in this department."

"Yes, yes. We all know you prefer it when a woman is too drunk to refuse you. Or stand up. But that's not what I'm talking about. It's more like… they have a busy day, you know? "

"Christ, DeSalle, what do you expect?" a woman at the other end of the room said. "They're glorified prostitutes with fancy titles and fake breasts. The only advantage you have with them over a normal whores is that you don't have to worry about catching diseases or losing your kidneys. Besides, haven't you dated more than one woman at a time?"

"Once or twice."

"Have you ever been with a woman who was already in a relationship?"

"More times than I can count, Ms. Paul."

"That's not saying much," someone said, trying to hold back a laugh.

Ms. Paul ignored the interjection and asked her question. "Out of all of those times, did the other person ever find out?"

"Of course not. I'm a man of discretion."

"Then doesn't it stand to reason that you've been cheated on without knowing it? And the girl you were with probably didn't give as much thought to hygiene or your sensibilities as the morale officers are taught to. This isn't anything new, it's just something you're aware of now."

"I suppose you're right," Lieutenant DeSalle admitted, cringing. "But it doesn't matter because I outrank all of you, and _I_ say you don't know what you're talking about."

A consensus "boo" was his response.

"Bah, get back to work. The captain has noticed your poor workmanship and chewed me out about it. We may utilize artificial gravity, but shit still rolls downhill, and guess where you lie? Get me in to trouble again, and you'll find yourself in an avalanche."

DeSalle received another, quieter "boo" but everyone turned back to their work, and he went to his own seat to check over their checks. After few minutes of indecisiveness, Jimmy stood up and went over to tell his superior about the situation.

"Uh, Lieutenant?" Jimmy said to him as he stood in front of the desk.

"Yes…" DeSalle said, pausing as he strained to think of something, "DT Jackson, is it?"

"Data Technician Bale, sir."

"Right. What do you need?"

"I'm sorry sir. I was looking over some of the computer's calculations to see if there was some kind of error or bug, but I can't find one."

"Why would there be a bug? What are you talking about?"

Lieutenant DeSalle brought up the reports on his own computer while Jimmy answered.

"I'm not really sure, sir. I was just checking two calculations for the amount of objective time that's passed and one is a few hours off. Which one, again I'm not sure. I checked them against some of the calculations taken over the past few days and it seems as though it's been going on for a while and getting worse. But most of the discrepancies have been too far behind the decimal to catch anyone's attention until now."

DeSalle's eyes went wide.

"Wait. This has been going on for days and no one caught it until right now?"

"I assume no one caught it, sir."

"Well this is no good. If I go to the captain with this after he made a point to criticize this department, he'll give us all hell for it the whole trip and who knows what will happen when we get back…" The Lieutenant trailed off and thought in silence for almost a half minute, "On the other hand, I certainly wouldn't want to waste his time with something that turned out to be nothing more than a simple error on the part of one of my subordinates, would I? We're about to start a new jump, anyway so this won't really matter, will it? I mean, it's just an hour difference. Are you _sure_ you didn't make a mistake?"

"Sir, if you can find where I've overlooked something, it would solve the entire problem, but I've been looking for some time now and—"

"I think it might be best for you to look one more time."

"Sir?"

"I'm not telling you I want you to alter anything because that would be wrong and possibly hazardous, even on something as small as this. I'm not telling you anything, period. But if you made a mistake somewhere, it would probably be beneficial to all of us if you just corrected it now and made a mental note to keep your eye on it as we go along. You haven't mentioned this to anyone else, have you?"

"No, sir. Just you."

"That's probably best. We wouldn't want people to panic," the Lieutenant sat rubbing his chin for a few moments before looking up again as if he'd forgotten Jimmy was still there. "Well? Get back to your station and let's see if this problem doesn't disappear."

"I… think I understand you sir."

"What's to understand? I didn't say anything."


	5. Chapter 5

**RRS Odessa  
Relative Space  
Automaton Repair Room  
Subjective Time Passed: One Year  
Objective Time Passed: Unknown **

Wa-kah. Wa-kah. Wa-kah.

Jack Denton watched the clumsy, cylindrical robots shuffle back and forth across the cluttered room, bumping in to things and one another without comprehension or concern for the environment they were in.

"Stupid little things, aren't they?" Jack said to the Japanese mechanic who was tinkering with an inactive stupid little thing lying on the floor.

"Yeah, the A.I. in these clunkers is pretty poor, but it's been decades and no one has managed to build anything as durable as this model, or even close to it. Me checking them over is just a formality," the mechanic admitted, "I mean, long after you or I go the way of the Panda, these guys will be wandering around, bumping in to things on whatever planet we leave them, trying to take samples for us. I guess you could say they're too stupid to know how to die, and that can be a good thing."

"True. And it's also true that we aren't actually trying to explore an alien world, just prove that we can do it," Jack said, "so letting these guys wander around on some strange planet is more of an academic exercise than real accomplishment."

"It'll be the first man-made object to actually touch a planet this far out," the mechanic pointed out.

"Sure, until the next ship in this series or the one after this goes out even farther. And the one after that goes even farther. And—" Jack paused, "Are you a fan of baseball, by any chance?"

"Not particularly."

"I didn't think so. That's why I like Officer Deng better," Jack complained.

"Well that yellow bastard's not here so you'll just have to make due with me."

"So I will." Jack cleared his throat. "Okay, after the official globalization of the sport, records started being broken at a really amazing pace. A lot of that had to do with the changes to looser international rules, but most of it was just having so many more great, well-conditioned athletes competing against one another. What happened is that nearly every year, two or three people were breaking some kind of record and everyone was amazed. They cheered and celebrated and reveled. But then it kept happening and people got less amazed.

"Eventually," Jack went on, "they even forgot what it was they'd been amazed about. I doubt you could name the 2027 EL RBI champ or 2032 WL Home Run king, even though they both bested the previous record by a half dozen. A huge thing way back then, my dad tells me. I know you don't care about baseball, but see even if you did, you wouldn't care about those guys because by now they're behind about twenty or thirty guys in the record books who've done even better."

"I indulged you because I know you like to talk baseball," the mechanic said, moving to a different position on the robot, "but really, I understood what you were trying to say without the analogy. We're going to be unappreciated in the annals of history because people are going to keep going farther and doing it quicker. But it's not like we aren't contributing anything. We're an invisible link in the chain of progress but without us, the chain would break and there would be no progress. That's where your allegory fails. Someone always has to be the humble, invisible servants and hey, that's us. But you know, I can live with that."

The mechanic closed up the paneling on the robot and rolled it over to an automated lift. A few seconds later, the robot was back on its feet, waddling with the others.

"You done here now, Hideo?" Jack said.

"Yeah. Well, it's time for my break." Hideo wiped some of the grease off of his hands and threw the chemical rag in the trash as the two of them started walking toward the exit. "I have other stuff to do, but I want to get something to eat. How long are you still on break?"

"Today is my off-day," Jack said, "Unless something goes horribly wrong, or something. But yeah, I've got nothing but a Morale Session scheduled."

"Who did you get?" Hideo asked as they got on to one of the mobile walkways.

"Tracy, I think. I was kind of hoping to get Liu but…"

"Yeah, everybody is kind of hoping they get Liu. That thing she does with her tongue—"

"Exactly."

"Anyway, Tracy's good, too," Hideo said as they stepped on to a different walkway. "Open to some things Liu isn't, and that's always good."

"Right. I've had her before, but to be honest I've never felt comfortable doing things that are that far out of the ordinary. Call me old-fashioned."

" 'You're old-fashioned.' Seriously though, if you ever decide to get with the times, I'd suggest starting with her and trying some of the modern stuff, work your way up on her until you're ready for Trent."

"Eh, I think I'll pass. I'm strictly traditional, Hideo."

They stepped off the walkway and in to the cafeteria. Each selected one of the offered drinks and meals from the machine, then the canned drinks and pre-wrapped food came out, hot items hot, cold items cold, and eating utensils included.

"Well if you ever decide to become a switch hitter, baseball boy, he's as good as any to throw you your first curveball."

"Yeah… I'll keep that in mind."

"Ha ha, I know. 'Good old-fashioned Jack'," Hideo laughed as they walked in to the dining area. "You really are missing out on half the fun. You should try it at least once to see _what_ you're missing. Doesn't mean you have to switch for good, just give it a shot."

"Women keep my morale high, and I'll stick with them until they can't raise my morale any more. But I can guarantee you that women that look like Tracy or Liu who can do the things they do will _always_ get a rise out of me."

"Sure."

They sat down at a table.

"Do you have any idea how much subjective time is going to go by until we come back to reality?" Jack asked.

"Should be any day now. I don't keep up with it, but—" Hideo turned around tapped the shoulder of someone at another table, the only other person in the cafeteria, "Hey, you're a data-dog, right?"

The man looked up from his meal and turned to face them, rather surprised.

"Me? Yes."

"Daniel Bale, right?" Hideo said.

"No, Jim. Jim Bale."

"Jim, right. How many more days is it until we go back to real space, Jim?"

"We are right now," Bale answered.

"What? We're already back?" Jack said.

"No," Bale said, shaking his head, "we're back, just not _all the way_ back."

Hideo frowned.

"That doesn't make any sense."

"Yes, well, hmm…" Bale said, trying to think of something, "I'm not very good at analogies but I guess it's like there's two banks of a river, one that has relative space and one that has objective—or real—space. Our ship is like a person trying to cross the river to the opposite side. We've got a foot on each bank right now, and we're easing our way across. Let's say the relative side is more solid and the real side is muddy. If we go back too quick, mud will go everywhere." The blank looks of Jack's and Hideo's faces must have shown. "Or maybe that's confusing it too much. The important thing is that time as we perceive it is different in both places so we can't just get there immediately, even though we _are_ back in real space as I speak. It takes about ten subjective hours to get completely back, and that translates to a week and a half or so of objective time as we get adjusted to our previous reality. We're one object occupying two separate points at the same time."

"That still doesn't make any sense," Hideo argued.

"Right," Bale agreed. "That's because it's magic."

"Magic?"

"Have you ever taken advanced astro-, quantum-, or meta- physics?"

"No," Hideo said, growing upset. "But that's doesn't mean you have to treat me like I'm a fucking idiot."

"Oh, it's nothing against you," Bale said hurriedly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. You're a mechanic, right? I couldn't do your job if my life depended on it. I'm no good at the 'practical' mechanics. So if you tried to tell me how something like the robots you work on actually function circuit to circuit, motor to motor, or tried to teach me, you'd give up before I made any progress at all. And that's fine because as far as I'm concerned, those guys run on magic. That's all I need to know. Here's a mutual example, I think: do you have any idea how those maxi-atoms power the ship or why they're out in the open, surrounded by nothing but relatively fragile glass?"

"No, I don't."

"Neither do I. They work, I don't know specifically how, but they do. Without them, the ship wouldn't be able to do anything. But I don't know how or why. So it must be magic. How does the ship travel faster than light, have the ability to manipulate the fabric of space, and shatter most pre-conventional laws of physics? It happens, you can attest to it, but you have no idea. So it might as well be magic. Because that's just as good of an explanation as anything."

"Hocus pocus, got it," Jack said, sure to cut off Hideo before the conversation could go any further. "So five hours then?"

Bale checked his watch.

"Closer to four," he answered.

"Good," Jack said as he stood up, having finished his meal, "hopefully we can make it to the other side without getting wet."


	6. Chapter 6

**Personal Quarters of Data Technician Christi Paul  
Four Hours Later**

"I thought I was guaranteed at least two goes of it each session, Andrei," Cristi said disappointedly, sitting in her bed. "Isn't that part of your obligation?"

"What do you call this?" Andrei Rezik said obviously agitated, as he lifted his head from under the sheets and caught his breath.

"Carpet munching," she answered, "If I wanted that, I could schedule one of the girls and have someone worth talking to, as well. You're usually better than this. Don't tell me you're going soft on me."

"Oh ha-ha. I've had a busy day, Ms. Paul, and you're lucky with whatever you get. Unlike _some_ morale officers around here, I try to make it a policy not to medicate."

"Don't drag Trent in to this; he pulls double duty. You only service females and I want a full service job. If you have to viagrize, do it. I don't care as long as the job gets done."

"Fine," Andrei muttered before wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and throwing the sheets off of himself. He stood up and began walking around the room. "Did I leave my kit in your bathroom?" he asked as he fumbled around on her dresser top looking for it.

"I think so," she answered. "Before you check, toss me that, will you?"

"Toss you what?"

"The battery-powered phallus next to your hand that I'm about to use to emasculate you," Cristi said. He shot her a look, and she added. "Unless you want to think of it as a warm up for you."

"I think," he said, leaving the toy on the dresser and walking into the bathroom, "you might get better results from what we do if you treated it less as a duty of mine and more as a romantic encounter between lovers. By now we've been together longer than a lot of normal couples."

"But it _is_ a duty of yours and we definitely aren't lovers. You do a job, usually a good one. Don't get upset with me just because you're doing it poorly now."

"I'm not getting upset at you. Okay, a little bit. But it's not because I can't get it up right now. Thanks to some poor scheduling, you're my fourth woman today, and I'm not the man of steel. Superman, I mean. Not Isof."

"You bastard."

"What?"

"I thought you wanted me to pretend we were lovers? What kind of woman would I be if I just stood by and let my lover cheat on me with three other women in a single day?"

"You're hysterical, Ms. Paul, do you know that? You may not be able to hear it from in there, but my ass has fallen off on to floor from all of my laughing."

"I don't think that expression works quite as well in Russian, darling."

He did start laughing.

" 'Darling'. That's a good example. Adding that to the end took away any sharpness the sentence that came before it might have had. You're right about it being an expression best left to English, by the way. But just one word can turn an insult into a loving rebuke. Just keeping the appearance of affection isn't a substitute for actual affection, but it can go a long way. For example…"

At last he found the bottle with the right pills and took one, then came back and stood at the doorway to the bathroom, placing his hands on his hips as he rose to the occasion.

"My mild manners have disappeared, dear; now I'm more powerful than a locomotive and able to leap tall buildings in a single bound."

"Then let's just hope you aren't faster than a speeding bullet," she said before winking. "Darling."

"Why you—" he said with a smile as he began to run back toward her. He launched himself in to the air and landed next to her on the bed, making her yelp with surprise. Just as he began to roll over on top of her, there was a digital knock at the door. Andrei and Cristi looked at one another and without words came to the conclusion that it would be best to just ignore it.

"Whoever is in there, stop what you're doing and get out here," a feminine voice said. "An Entropy Technician has taken M.O. Yuling hostage and is threatening to kill her if anyone comes in his room."

"Bloody hell," Cristi said as she gave Andrei shove and he rolled back off of her. "Begin: Aren't there security officers to handle something like that? End."

"There would be, but the E.T. broke one of the maxi-atom containers before this situation developed and now it's floating around the ship. Half of the crew and all but one of the S.O.s are trying to put it in a new shell before it floats through one of the exterior walls and is lost."

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," she said as she got up and put on a robe, "Begin: So what do you need me for? End."

"Nothing. But if you're in there with a male M.O., we could use the extra body in case the E.T. decides to try to leave his room. You are with a _male_ M.O., right?"

"Go suck a horse's cock, whore. Begin: yes, I'm here with M.O. Rezik. I'll send him out right away," she turned back to Andrei and shrugged, "Well, you heard what the stupid bitch said. Better get dressed and get out there," she laughed as he got out of bed and she saw he was still standing at attention, "I guess it was a bad idea for you to take that viagrizer, huh?"

He had already gotten on his boxers, but before he could respond, the person outside answered for him.

"He should have a pill in his kit that he can use to reverse his condition. And I'll be sure to inform your superior of your opinion of me."

Cristi's jaw dropped open for a moment as she looked at him, eyes the size of dinner plates. Andrei stopped trying to put his pants on and covered his mouth to try to keep himself as quiet as possible. Cristi's mouth snapped shut then opened again for her to say, "End!" so loudly Andrei was surprised something didn't break. She glared at him, and he held his hands up in a show of innocence.

"I'm sorry, dear, it's not my fault you forgot to say the magic word. But she's right, you know. I do have some pills to turn me back in to Mr. Kent."

Cristi stomped over to the dresser and grabbed the oversized pink phallus sitting atop it. He raised an eyebrow. She suddenly threw it at his face, but he ducked and it hit the wall behind him.

"Pick that up," she growled, "and use it to go fuck yourself. _Darling_."

Andrei began laughing even more but tried to focus on gathering his clothes and putting them on. She went in to the bathroom and found his kit then came back and tossed it at his feet.

"Finish getting dressed and get out."

"Oh come on Cristi," he said as he got his second sock on, "Cristi, don't be like that."

She went back in to the bathroom, cursing indistinctly. Andrei just shook his head and concentrated on getting the rest of his clothes on. Once this was accomplished, he picked his kit up, took his pill, and walked outside. Greeting him on the other side of the door was Ana Montoya, one of the Complaint Assessors, who although in a bad mood, was much more congenial than the woman he'd left behind him, and he certainly welcomed the change.

"M.O. Rezik," she said curtly before turning and stepping on to one of the mobile walkways.

"Hello, Ana," he replied with a grin, following her, "So what's going on, exactly?"

"I assume you heard most of what I said, so you know the basics of the situation. However, it seems that this has been building for some time."

"Yes, I heard Liu griping about someone the other day. Are you saying this is the same guy that's holding her hostage?"

"Possibly. More than one person has submitted complaints involving M.O. Yuling, some of them valid, some of them only envy. She's popular, probably too popular."

"I have the same problem," he said, smiling broadly.

Ana laughed.

"Actually, I don't believe I've received any complaints about you. Which means you're doing the job you're paid to do, I suppose," she turned to look at him, smiling herself. It disappeared they were face-to-face, and she quickly turned back away. "You've, uh, got something stuck in your teeth, M.O. Rezik… Something short. And curly."

He felt around for it with his tongue and promptly located what she was talking about. Slightly embarrassed, he removed the offending party and dropped it.

"Sorry about that."

"Perfectly acceptable. I assume that's fairly common to your profession. Anyway, we've arrived."

The comment was unnecessary. Andrei could see the large group of people crowded around the outside of someone's personal quarters just as well as she could, but of course he didn't say anything. They stepped off the walkway then went to join the crowd. There was a small semi-circle directly in front of the door that was empty except for two men who Andrei recognized as Lieutenant DeSalle and Security Officer Denton. DeSalle was dressed as normal, but Denton had on only his boxers and a pair of socks. When Andrei asked a person nearby what it was all about, the person explained Denton had been in the middle of Morale Session when he'd been told there was an emergency, and he'd rushed over as quickly as possible. Someone was supposed to be fetching his stun gun for him, but apparently Denton didn't feel it was safe to wait for it.

"Get the fuck out of here or I swear I'll cut her throat!" someone shouted from inside the room.

"Anatoly," Officer Denton replied calmly, "You're on a ship that is _literally_ in the middle of nowhere. No one is going anywhere. Now, the door has been unlocked, and I'm going to open it, okay?"

"Do it, and I'll cut her open! I will!"

The door opened anyway, and Denton stepped forward, palms up.

"Anatoly, look at me. You caught me— hell, you caught all of with our pants down with this. But I'm unarmed. I just want to speak with you in person. Reason with you. Because I know you're not a crazy person or a violent person. If you were, you never would have been cleared to go on this mission. Right? We've been out here for a year and God only knows what that does to a person. So you made a mistake or two. So what? None of this is your fault, it's just something that happened. If you let Ms. Yuling go and come with me, everything will be okay. We'll have some guys check you over and see why this happened, and all will be forgiven. I mean, Liu is a little shaken up right now, but other than that, she's perfectly fine. Aren't you? And I'm sure they've gotten the maxi-atom under control by now. No permanent harm done to anyone. As long as you don't do anything worse, we can fix this all up to be like it never happened."

Andrei moved around the edge of the crowd until he could see in to the room itself. The Anatoly fellow was holding Liu with a shard of glass pressed up against her throat. She was naked and bloody, but it appeared to be blood running from Anatoly's own hand. Perhaps from when he'd broken the maxi-atom shell, or maybe he was just gripping the shard too hard. For a moment, he appeared to be considering Denton's offer, but then DeSalle poked his head over the security officer's shoulder.

"V.T. Omsky, if you hurt her, I promise I'll—"

"Leon," Denton cut him off in as kind a tone as possible, "shut the _fuck_ up, will you?"

But it was too late. Anatoly became animated once again.

"You can go to the devil, DeSalle!" he shouted, stabbing the piece of glass in their direction, "She rejected _me _for _you_! Always finding excuses to leave me so she could be with _you_! Well not anymore. I've got her full attention, and I intend to keep it."

Andrei thought he heard Officer Denton mutter a few expletives, but he couldn't be sure. In any case, Denton tried his hand at diplomacy once again.

"Anatoly, listen, I know that Leon here is a prick. Hell, everyone knows that. And hey, maybe Liu's a grade-A bitch. I don't know. But that's no reason to flush your entire life down the tubes. If they are what you think they are, they aren't worth that, are they? If you just explain what happened to that captain, he'll probably court martial both of them. I'll back you up, and so will everyone who's here with me."

"I'm not an idiot; don't patronize me," Anatoly said as tears began to pour down his face and his shoulders shook with sobs, "Oh God, what have I done. I've lost everything now. There's no hope for me, all because of this… this fucking bitch."

"Anatoly, no!" Denton said as he began to run at the unstable man. Anatoly pulled the glass away from Liu's throat, allowing her to slip away, and he slashed at Denton, but the security officer was able to step back in time to dodge it. Behind Denton came DeSalle who dove at Anatoly in an attempt to tackle him to the ground. Anatoly swung the shard back toward Leon, cutting deep in to DeSalle's throat. DeSalle's momentum carried him into Anatoly, taking them both to the floor just a moment later. Denton rushed over and picked DeSalle off of Anatoly, then struck the latter in the face several times until he dropped the piece of glass, unconscious. Everything had happened so quick, Andrei was unable to fully register it.

"God damn it, don't just stand there!" Denton yelled at the crowd, who was in the same stunned condition as Andrei. "Someone get over here and try to stop DeSalle from bleeding to death before we can get him to the infirmary. We haven't got all fucking day here!"

Andrei snapped out of his shock and pushed through the crowd to get in to the room. Denton was meanwhile busy tying up Anatoly's hands, presumably to keep him bound if he woke back up. Andrei took off his shirt and kneeled down, wrapping it around Leon DeSalle's neck in the hopes of slowing the jet of blood that continued to shoot out of the wounded man's neck. Denton moved around to Leon's legs and a second later someone else arrived. The three of them gingerly picked Leon up and moved him outside to one of the walkways that led directly to the infirmary. Once they set him down again, Andrei began to step back off but Denton grabbed him by the arm and they started moving through the ship.

"What do you think you're doing, Rezik?"

"It's Liu," Andrei replied. "She's been through hell and probably needs some comfort right now."

"There will be plenty of time for comfort later. Besides," Denton went on with a scowl. "I think the biggest comfort we can give her is saving this man's life."

DeSalle began to thrash and the two of them busied themselves with holding him as still as possible, while the third man — Ventilation Technician Jameson — tried to talk to him and calm him down. Eventually, DeSalle did calm down, but it seemed to have more to do with his blood loss than anything. Even next to people who hadn't been in the sun for a year, Leon's skin looked too pale.

None too soon, they arrived at the infirmary and carried him over to a bed, before being shoved out of the way to make room for frantic doctors and automated healing equipment.

All three of them were smeared with blood, and Denton said that maybe it was a good thing he didn't have on his uniform because unlike theirs, at least _his_ was still clean. The other two did their best to laugh at the meager joke.

"About what you said before," Jameson the Ventilation Technician asked after a moment, "you know, the greatest gift to give Liu would be saving DeSalle's life. Are you saying that what Anatoly was talking about was true?"

"Somewhat," Denton answered hesitantly, "From what I gathered talking to a few people, Yuling has missed some of her appointments with Anatoly—among others—because she's lost track of time during unscheduled Morale Sessions between herself and Leon. When she finally did show up this time, Anatoly was rather unhappy, and… I don't know how you explain a thing like this beyond that, really. I mean, can you?"

"You'd better hope one of you can," one of the nurses said, walking over to them from a comm station on the wall. "The captain wants to see the three of you in his office immediately."


	7. Chapter 7

**Captain Vladimir Telander's Quarters  
Thirty Minutes Later**

Complaint Assessor Ana Montoya entered the captain's office and was surprised to find three men already there in addition to the captain. He appeared to be ignoring them as his eyes swung back and forth between several monitors on his desk. Montoya stepped forward and saluted. After several minutes, he gave a quick salute, and she slid into line with the others.

They were quite a sight. Blood, presumably Lieutenant DeSalle's, had soaked all of their clothes, and the security officer — Denton — was wearing only his undergarments. They seemed very worried, and Montoya wouldn't have wanted to be in their positions for anything in the world, except that she still didn't know quite why she'd been summoned, either.

"That time of the month was it, Officer Denton?" the captain said finally.

"Sir?" Denton said.

"Menstruating. You're having your period."

"No sir," Denton began unsteadily. "In attempting to give aid to Lieutenant DeSalle…"

The captain waved his hand, and Denton didn't go on.

"How many of you were in the room when the incident occurred?"

"Just myself, sir," Denton answered.

"I witnessed it from the hallway, sir," M.O. Rezik offered.

"And you, V.T. Jameson?" the captain asked of the remaining man.

"I just carried the lieutenant after it was over, sir."

"But you worked with Ventilation Technician Anatoly Omsky some. Is that correct?"

"Yes sir."

The captain produced a large stack of physical records and spread some across the top of his desk.

"Okay. I have in front of me most of the documentation related to this situation," the captain said. "Numerous complaints were filed by Omsky and received by the Morale division. Most of it then went ignored or got a token response. Jameson, would you say Omsky was well-liked in your division?"

"I don't know sir,"

"Did _you_ likehim? Did you spend time with him off-shift?"

"No, I didn't personally, sir," James said.

"Like him or spend time with him," the captain asked.

"Either one, sir."

"Did he have friends?"

"Not that I know of, sir."

"Okay. Denton, you had a meeting with V.T. Omsky two days ago, didn't you?"

"Yes sir."

"What was the spirit of that discussion?"

"I heard his complaint about the conduct of M.O. Yuling in regards to Lieutenant DeSalle," Denton said. "He thought it was detrimental to himself, and partially intended as such. I told him I understood and would look into it, sir."

"And did you look into it?"

"…No, sir. I hadn't yet, sir."

"Well, when you do get around to it, you'll be sure to file a report with the Morale division, won't you?"

"Yes sir."

"I hope so. Because they do seem to enjoy getting reports. M.O. Rezik, do you have any insight into your colleague M.O. Yuling's behavior?"

"I'm not entirely sure what you're asking, sir."

"As a morale officer, can you empathize or explain why a fellow morale officer would behave in a way that is expressly against protocol and that adversely affects the moral of a crew?"

Rezik took a few seconds to formulate his response.

"I think, sir, she developed an emotional relationship with Lieutenant DeSalle, which is fairly common, and she did not have these feelings for V.T. Omsky or even enjoy his company. He was known to behave inappropriately at times, especially regarding her."

"Such as sabotaging a spaceship and taking a woman hostage."

"No, sir."

"Oh. Well that's comforting. I'd hate to think something like that slipped by under my watch." The captain yawned. "You three are dismissed."

They saluted and began to move toward the door, but the security officer stopped at the door. The other men stopped with him.

"Sir, do you know the present condition of Lieutenant DeSalle?" Security Officer Denton asked.

"You're _dismissed_."

"Yes sir."

The three men exited quietly, leaving Ana alone with the captain. Having enjoyed her role as observer for the captain's interrogation of the others, she had almost forgotten she was likely there for the same.

"C.A. Montoya, I understand it is your job to monitor all complaints and look into them in order to prevent situations like this from occurring. Am I incorrect in this assumption?"

"No, sir. That is correct, sir."

"We have been traveling for exactly one subjective year as of today, and I have nine complaints from Omsky showing to have been received by your department. You interviewed him twice on record, and observed him informally at least once a week. What — in your professional opinion — made you decide his complaints were invalid?"

Montoya took a deep breath. "V.T. Omsky seemed to be emotionally 'needy' rather than physically needy, sir. His complaints with respect to M.O. Yuling were initially that she seemed remote and noncompliant to his requests. Some of his requests, both sexually and otherwise, my department determined to be unreasonable to ask specifically of Yuling. When I investigated his complaints of Yuling intentionally slighting him, I could find no such evidence, and I repeatedly attempted to convince him of this, sir."

"What evidence would you have been looking for?"

"Unfriendliness, a lack of enthusiasm, refusal of sexual requests she typically provided."

"Yuling was satisfactory in these respects."

"After viewing the tapes, that was my judgment, yes sir."

"Okay. You're dismissed."

Ana saluted but didn't move. The captain repeated his statement.

"Can no one hear today? You're dismissed."

Ana nodded. "I understand, sir, but am I going to be punished?"

Captain Telander's tongue slipped out of his mouth and licked his lips. Then he smiled but his face had an expression as unhappy as one might imagine possible to accompany a smile.

"Punished? You're worried about being punished? By whom? By me?" He pointed at his own chest and blinked. "Do you have any idea, even the _slightest_ idea of what has happened here, as a result of DeSalle's actions, or maybe, generously, someone else's? No? Let me show you."

The captain typed away at his interface and in moments there appeared between Ana and him a star map, unfamiliar to both.

"Do you know where this is? Because I don't. And neither do our computers. And the main reason is because they're still trying to figure out _when_ this is. Oh, we found a planet all right. But not the planet we intended. And it's as dubious right now that we've stayed within our galaxy as within the intended century. And do you know the reason that is?"

C.A. Montoya didn't answer.

"Because Lieutenant LaSalle decided — for reasons yet insensible to me — that it might be more prudent to ignore the discordant data coming in to his department and just pretend everything was all right. Well it _wasn't_ all right! It was shit. It was all _fucked_, from the very beginning, nearly, it was fucked. And yet here we are now." Captain Telander smiled. "Here we are now. There is a planet down below that the telescopes of our era never even glimpsed. Here we are now, in orbit over it. And it is wonderful and a great advance of science and technology, but everyone we ever knew or imagined on earth is likely dead now. Perhaps dead for centuries. And here we are now.

"You ask me if you're punished?" the captain said. "Punished _with what_? Yes, I could restrict your movement for a time, or even expel you from an airlock if back into real space your offense warranted it. But for what? Everything you ever knew or loved is dead. And you ask me if you're punished? _C'est le vie_. You've already been dismissed. So leave."

Ana turned on her heel and started to walk away, but paused mid-step. Something came to her and she said it, not knowing why she did.

"We were dead to them the moment we left, Vladimir."

She didn't look behind her as she continued to walk away. And she didn't hear him say anything, either, at least before the doors shut behind her.


End file.
